


From Russia With Love

by marsroverVEVO



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Eating Disorders (ish), Eventual Smut, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, In chapter 9, Jesus Christ Yuri Has No Chill., M/M, Making Out, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, lots of kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-01 06:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8611933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsroverVEVO/pseuds/marsroverVEVO
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor are headed to Russia on a vanity tour to promote the upcoming Grand Prix competition. This means spending every waking moment together and sharing everything. Good luck, Viktor.





	1. First Flight Out

The airport was bustling despite it being too early for the sun to even be awake. Yuri Katsuki sat slumped in his seat, head sunken into the pile of coats on his lap. Viktor had woken up him up at three to catch their six o’clock flight to Moscow. He had been over prepared and over organized, enough so to do almost everything for Yuri as well. He lead his student through the mazes of the airport, excitedly telling him about his hometown. The energy Viktor emitted could’ve easily had its own wattage.

They unzipped their winter layers at security, piling them into the small plastic bins. Yuri stripped down to a thin, white shirt; the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He walked through security, flirting with each of the security guards. Viktor’s stomach twisted into knots at the sight, trying to bury his feelings behind his clenched jaw. Viktor now stood outside the ropes, arms full of winter parkas. Viktor plastered on a bright smile, trying to hide the blush that covered his cheeks. Yuri slipped his backpack onto his back, Viktor’s over his front. He softly thanked a worker, walking over to Viktor. Luckily he was too sleepy to notice much of anything. They made their way over to their gate, Yuri almost falling asleep when Viktor stopped to pick up a dropped scarf.

“You didn’t go to bed early, did you?” Viktor scolded, watching Yuri hold back the yawn of a century.

Yuri shook his head, rubbing his eyes under his glasses, “I did, but getting up at three didn’t give me much of a chance to actually sleep,”.

Viktor chuckled. When Yuri was grumpy, it was quite the sight. His normally quiet and meek demeanor was traded in for one of sass and clever one-liners. He sat Yuri down at their gate, piling coats onto his lap.

“No store will be open, but I’ll see what the vending machines have,” Viktor murmured, ruffling the brunettes hair. He walked down the hall, standing in front of a vending machine. His hand rest on his chin, trying to pick out their “breakfast”. He knew he had to keep Yuri in shape, but he had so little to work with. His eyes picked out a machine at the end of the line. The fluorescent paneling advertising cup ramen. He pressed coins into the machine, stepping back. Two plastic cups popped out, hot water promptly filling them. Viktor picked them up, gripping the paper packaging of the chopsticks between his teeth. He sauntered back over to Yuri, sitting beside him.

“Oh Yuuuuri!” Viktor sang, waving a pair of chopsticks in his face, “Time to eat!”.

Yuri groaned, wrinkling his nose. Not in disgust of the food, but in disgust for Viktor’s unwarranted enthusiasm. Viktor laughed, tossing back his silver hair. Picking up one of the cups, he peeled back the lid with a flourish. He pulled apart the chopsticks.

“You have to eat so you can get big and strong,” Viktor teased, holding the cup under Yuri’s chin.

He helped some noodles to Yuri’s lip, encouraging him to take a bite. Yuri reluctantly obliged, blushing at the gesture. Viktor’s heart skipped a beat. How badly he just wanted to press his lips to Yuri's, rather than the stale noodles. Brushing aside the thought, he patiently held the cup as Yuri untangled his hands from the pile of jackets, to grip his small plastic cup. Viktor picked up his own, tucking his feet up under him. He leaned up against Yuri’s shoulder as he ate. Luckily he had established a very friendly relationship right off the bat. Yuri was incredibly awkward at first, only recently getting used to it. Viktor wished he could do more or say even the right things, but it still seemed like Yuri was light years away.

Yuri chewed on the end of a chopstick, lost in his thoughts. Viktor watched Yuri’s chocolate brown eyes flick across the terminal. The sun peeked over the edge of the horizon, painting the sky a soft pink that filtered into the airport. The pink light dusted Yuri’s pillowy lips and exposed collar bones. Viktor had to yank his gaze away from the angelic sight. Much to his chagrin, he had agreed to be a coach before anything else. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, charms clinking together as he played some trivial game.

“Are you ready for this tour?” Viktor asked, trying to clear the awkward silence.

Yuri shrugged, “I guess so, I mean it’s just a vanity thing before the Grand Prix,”.

“Vanity is incredibly important, especially to you. It’ll be good to build up your confidence before the national competition,”.

“Especially to me?” Yuri’s attention caught on the phrase.

“Well,” Viktor slightly frowned, turning off his phone. He was in dangerous territory not, especially in Yuri’s tired state.

“Despite being such a talented skater and a very kind person, you place all of your faith in other people. You never think you’re good enough. You refuse to acknowledge your talent in the slightest, even though you’re one of the best,”.

Yuri scooted down in his seat, resting his head against the top of his back rest, effectively ending the conversation. The act resurrected his emotional wall that blocked out any compliments. Viktor knew he was right, but that didn’t make the truth any more manageable.  
He made the mistake of looking up at Yuri, who had tears welling in his eyes. Viktor quickly looked away, knowing Yuri wanted no recognition of any emotional weakness. He closed his eyes in the hopes that sleep would fix everything. Not even two hours into their month together and Viktor had already struck the worst nerve.

A little bit later, Viktor was woken up by a warm hand on his shoulder. He yawned, sitting up straight. Yuri gave him a second to take in his surroundings before handing him his belongings.

“Do you have your boarding pass?” Yuri asked, reaching into a jacket pocket, he pulled out two tickets, “oh, nevermind. I’ve got both of them I guess,”.

“Thanks,” Viktor chuckled, rubbing his eyes. He grabbed onto the top strap of Yuri’s backpack, following him through the crowds of people that had appeared while he slept.

“This is your boarding pass, Viktor. We’re sitting in row B. You’re in seat 4, the aisle seat. Don’t lose it,” Yuri instructed, pressing the ticket into Viktor’s hand.

“Thank you, dorogoy,” Viktor slightly smiled at the gesture. They stood in the slow moving line that lead up to the plane. Once they arrived at the desk, they were greeted with an enthusiastic attendant. He flashed he charming smile as she checked him in (and checked him out). Yuri took him by his elbow to lead him away as soon as they were finished. Through his post-nap haze, Viktor could’ve sworn that Yuri even shot the stewardess a nasty look before dragging him away.

They found their seats and sat down, Yuri marvelling at the first class accommodations.

“I’ve never had this much leg room before… Not even in a car!” his grumpy demeanor was quickly traded in for childlike excitement. Viktor laughed, as he ducked under Yuri’s outstretched arms as he put away their overhead luggage. Catching a glimpse of Yuri’s now-toned-stomach, he smiled and gave it a poke.

“Look at you, my little katsudon, all toned and fit,”.

Yuri quickly pulled down the hem of his shirt, his face painted a bright red blush.

“You did this to me!” He practically cried out, sitting beside his coach.

Viktor smugly grinned, pressing a finger to his lips, “Mmm… I suppose I did,”.

Yuri sat beside him, pulling out his phone. He groaned, flipping through his messages.

“Yuri, who is ‘PhiSHIT?’” Viktor asked, reading over his shoulder. The vulgarity that came from his lips sent Yuri into a spluttering laughing fit. The confusion on Viktor’s face made it impossible to explain, laughing harder and harder each time he looked at him. Finally, he was able to catch his breath, wiping tears from his eyes.

“It’s Phichit, Viktor. Y’know, he’s working with Celestino?”.

Viktor’s face lit up, “Phichit? I love Phichit! Tell him I say hello!”.

Yuri, still giggling, snapped a quick picture. Viktor grinned, leaning over Yuri’s shoulder. He pointed to cute stickers, dictating their placement on his face. He linked his arm around Yuri’s, pulling him closer. His hair brushed against Viktor’s cheek; it had grown long since his face off against Yurio at Ice Castle Hasetsu.

“Yuri, when we get home, can I cut your hair?” Viktor mused, twirling a strand between his fingers.

“Have you ever cut hair before?” Yuri inquired, slightly worried by the request.

“Of course, I used to cut my own hair when it was long! But then Yakov made me get a stylist once I started winning,”.

Yuri shrugged, “Maybe we should both grow out our hair so we match,”.

Viktor chuckled, pressing a hand to his hair, “Oh dorogoy, I used to be so ugly with my long hair. It wouldn’t suit me anymore,”.

Yuri shrugged again, “That’s how it was when I first started watching you skate. I thought you looked really handsome with long hair,”.

The nonchalant compliment sent a shiver up Viktor’s spine. His heart pounding, he couldn’t take much more. He wasn’t going to be able to last a whole month without doing something incredibly stupid, that much was for sure. Coach first, friend second, coach first, friend second. Viktor tried to keep the mantra on loop on his head, but watching Yuri's face light up over a glass of apple juice? He was falling in love, and fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send me asks and requests on my Tumblr: sunprairie.tumblr.com !


	2. It's Hard to Love Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri grapples with some frustrating feelings. Viktor tries to help as best he can, but it's hard to believe someone who constantly sings your praises.

The crackling voice of the pilot came on over head, announcing their departure. The engines roared outside the thick windows as the tarmac began to roll past them. Yuri looked out the window, watching the lights of the city shrink away. The nose of the plane began to pull up and Viktor instinctively found Yuri’s hand. Gripping it tight, he squeezed his eyes shut. Yuri looked between their hands and Viktor’s face. Of course Viktor was a nervous flier. Confident about everything under his control, he was just as scared of the unknown as he was. Yuri gently rubbed his thumb over the back of Viktor’s hand, attempting to soothe him. After a few minutes of quiet encouragements and white knuckles, Viktor seemed to calm down. 

“Are you alright?” Yuri asked, still rubbing the back of his hand.

Viktor slightly nodded, nerves now changing from fear to excitement as he looked at their hands. 

“That’s the worst part of the whole thing,” Viktor shuddered, “That and turbulence,”.

Yuri sympathetically smiled, “Would you like to watch a movie before we plan my next program?”.

“Yeah, that’d be really nice,” Viktor smiled. Yuri clicked through the menu screen until he found a movie they both agreed on. It was Yuri’s favorite movie from his childhood, Spirited Away. Viktor plugged a pair of headphones into the armrest between them, offering Yuri one of the two. He adjusted their hands so he could lean against Yuri. Resting his chin on his shoulder, he trained his eyes on the tiny screen (definitely not on the way Yuri’s hair brushed over the top of his glasses, or how perfect his lips were. Definitely not). Ten minutes in, Viktor was hooked and Yuri had passed out. Viktor gently untangled their fingers to pull a blanket over Yuri’s legs, carefully tugging off his glasses. Yuri slightly stirred at the movement.

“Shh, dorogoy, sleep. I’ll wake you up when the movie is over,” Viktor murmured, brushing hair out of the brunette’s face.

Yuri sighed, adjusting to press his face into Viktor’s neck. Viktor wrapped an arm around his shoulders, butterflies in his stomach turning into a swarm. Eventually, he was able to focus back on the movie. He wanted to know everything about Yuri: his favorite color, songs, foods, his favorite everything. The kid was an enigma to him, even after all their training. Watching the movie, Viktor was entranced. The music was amazing- like nothing he had ever heard before. Pianos and violins filling his ears with more emotions than he was often able to express with words. He could understand why Yuri liked this movie so much. It was just like him. A story of struggling with an identity that is forced upon you was not a foreign concept to Yuri. Though he never outwardly expressed it, Yuri was convinced that he was never enough. That he was never fit enough, talented enough, charismatic enough, the list goes on. Viktor could see it when he skated or when he talked about how he performed. A perfect performance would be overshadowed with frustration and self doubt. Viktor’s praises falling upon deaf ears as Yuri went off to practice until he collapsed. Yuri once said that he needed him, as a coach, to have more faith in him than he did in himself. Now, Viktor knew that he had more faith, he just didn’t know how to show it. Gently running his fingers over Yuri’s forearm, he tried to think of ways to help. 

Tears gently rolled off of Viktor’s chin as he watched Chihiro walk down the tunnel. The sweet love story tugged at his already-over-emotional heart strings. Finally, the credits began their slow scroll across the screen. Viktor roughly wiped his eyes, sitting up straight. He gently roused Yuri, squeezing his hand.

“You missed the movie, Yuri,” Viktor muttered.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Yuri frowned, yawning into Viktor’s shoulder, “Did you like it?”.

Viktor nodded, ruffling Yuri’s hair, “Yubaba reminded me of Yakov a little bit,”.

Yuri chuckled, grunting in agreement.

“You can go back to bed, I can work on your next free skate,”.

Yuri shook his head, sitting up straight. He tugged out a headphone, rubbing his eyes. 

“Do you have an idea for a song?” Yuri asked, stretching his legs. 

Viktor pulled his backpack out from under his seat, rummaging through the pockets. He pulled out a worn sketchbook covered in stickers. Flipping through the pages, he came to the most recent entry. 

“Here- I was thinking one of Chopin’s Nocturnes would be nice. We can work on your quads while we’re on this tour too, there’s no better time to practice. I even designed a costume to go with it. Since we’ll be home, I can call up my old seamstress. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see me again,”.

Yuri took the notebook, running a finger over the figure in the middle of the page, “Oh Viktor. This is beautiful… This is just for me?”.

“Of course, dorogoya, It’ll be beautiful. Just like you,”.

Yuri’s face was instantly painted in a bright blush. Viktor chuckled, resting his hand on Yuri’s cheek. Yuri's soft smile quickly turned into a thinly pressed line. He quickly moved away, looking out the window.

“Stop it. Don’t lie to me,” Yuri muttered, white knuckling the notebook.

Viktor huffed out a terse breath, sitting forward in his seat. He pressed his fingers to his temples, rubbing small circles. 

“For the millionth time- I’m not lying Yuri,” Viktor sighed, “I wouldn’t lie about this. Not for a minute. You are beautiful- a work of art! If only you saw what I saw; you’d be speechless,”.

Tears welled up in Yuri’s eyes, he quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of his shirt. Viktor’s heart shattered at the sight. This is the way these conversations always ended up. No one was happy, nobody won. Yuri handed back the notebook, covering his ears with headphones before Viktor could say anymore. Viktor thumbed through the pages, silently cursing himself for his big mouth. He plugged in his own headphones, flipping through an extensive playlist of skating songs. Landing on Chopin’s Nocturne number nine, opus two, he began to take notes. He flipped between the pages, adding details and scribbling in messy notes. He was forever grateful for Yuri’s inability to read his sloppy cursive. Over the course of their ‘friendship’, his notebook had become more of a diary than anything else. He absentmindedly doodled in the corner as the music filled up the silent space between them. He imagined the sound of skates on ice, the picture coming to life as he closed his eyes. It was a program he had started writing the very night he saw Yuri’s video. 

An hour or so later, a small lunch was served to the passengers by cheery attendants. Viktor nudged Yuri, taking out his headphones. 

“Do you want the pasta or the sandwich?” he asked, nodding towards the cart beside them.

Yuri shrugged, only taking out one headphone, “You can pick. Just get me the healthier one,”.

Viktor forced a kind smile, looking back to the stewardess, “I’ll take two pastas please. Two waters as well,”.

She reached under the cart, handing him two bottles and two cardboard boxes. He thanked her, handing a box to Yuri. He unboxed it, poking at the noodles with a fork. Discouraged, Yuri picked out the small apple and closed the box. Viktor furrowed his brow, facing Yuri. 

“What the matter?”.

Yuri gave him a look like he had grown a third eye, “You know how it goes better than anyone. I’ve gained weight and I’m not gonna fit in my costume unless I lose it,”.

It was now Viktor’s turn to give him a confused look, “You’re slimmer than before. I’m confused. I thought we were going to need to take in your costume,”.

Yuri shook his head, “No. I gained weight. I’m almost as heavy as I was when you first came to Hasetsu,”.

Viktor was stunned. Yuri couldn’t possibly think that he was the same size as he was back then, could he? He had traded in every pound of fat for muscle and worked tirelessly to do so.

“I don't see the problem. All of that was fat and now you are incredibly fit. I can guarantee that you are perfect, in every sense of the word,”.

Yuri looked down at his tray, unsure how to proceed. Viktor continued softly, taking a hold of Yuri’s shoulder,  
“You go out there and you put everyone in a trance. You are stunning. I can barely look away even once you’re off the ice. You are so gorgeous…” he struggled to find the right words. His emotions were getting lost in translation.

“But not just on the outside, you are a beautiful person too. So smart and kind…” Viktor pressed his forehead to Yuri’s, his hand rest on the nape of his neck, holding him close, “I love who you are, totally and wholly. I never want you to think that you need to be any different than you are now,”. 

A small smile danced across Yuri’s lips, embarrassed tears running down his cheeks. Viktor wiped away a tear with his thumb, pulling Yuri into a tight hug. Pressing a kiss to his hair, he leaned down to Yuri’s ear. 

“Ty prekrasna moya dorogaya,”.

“Spasibo,” Yuri’s quiet reply caught Viktor off guard. The familiar sound of thanks came as a surprise considering that Yuri didn’t know any Russian, or so Viktor had thought. 

“I figured I should learn some Russian since you learned all this Japanese,” Yuri muttered, pushing up the armrest that separated them. He adjusted to lean against Viktor, rubbing his eyes on the blanket they now shared. 

“I got a bunch of study books and have been studying for a little bit now…” his voice was quiet and shy, “Yurio even helped because he doesn’t like speaking Japanese,”.

Viktor beamed, “Oh Yuri! That’s wonderful!”.

“Spasibo za trenerskuyu menya,” Yuri spoke in slow and fractured Russian, the syllables foreign against his lips.

“Mochiron,” Viktor replied in Japanese, his smile shining like the midday sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty prekrasna moya dorogaya- You are beautiful, my darling.  
> Spasibo- Thank you.  
> Spasibo za trenerskuyu menya- Thank you for coaching me.  
> Mochiron- Of course.
> 
> Oh man, I cranked out this chapter really fast because I just wanted to get through all the angst quickly. Sorry?  
> Let me know what you think on my Tumblr: sunprairie.tumblr.com


	3. Welcome to Moscow, Little Piggy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuri touch down in Moscow. Some things may be lost in translation.

The rest of the plane ride was a blur of microwaveable food and mediocre movies. Hours ticked by as they sat. It wasn’t long before they passed the twelve hour mark. Looking out the window, Viktor and Yuri watched the distant city lights through the night sky. As they stared, they excitedly spoke about their upcoming plans. 

“I can’t wait to take you to our hotel! It’s right by the forest and it is so pretty and nice!” Viktor beamed, “Plus Makkachin will be there by the time we get there too!”.

“They allow dogs in the hotel?” Yuri asked, surprised by the statement.

“They do if you are Russia’s skating sweetheart,” Viktor teased, playfully flipping his hair.

Yuri rolled his eyes, laughing at his ridiculous coach. The conversation continued as they started to get real about planning. Where would they eat? What would they do in their free time? He perked up at the thought of sharing his favorite foods with Yuri. He couldn’t wait to show him all of the best places in the city. His mind wandered as he spoke, thinking about taking Yuri up to the roof and showing him the city lights at night. Taking him to the beautiful Christmas markets and watching the snow fall. His train of thought trailed off the second that he thought about kissing Yuri under the clock tower. He could already see the way his cheeks flushed in the cold and could feel his cold nose press against his. Absentmindedly, he touched his cheek, a soft smile playing on his lips. Oh the stupid things he wanted to do in Russia. 

The dinging of the overhead seatbelt light tore him out of his daydream. Yuri poked his shoulder, catching his attention.

“Look, you can see all the buildings. We’re getting close,” he grinned, bouncing his legs.

Viktor chuckled, “I can see my house from here,”.

Their conversation was interrupted by the static warped voice of the captain. 

“Hello ladies and gentleman, we will be landing at the Sheremetyevo International Airport shortly. The time is ten o’clock pm and it is a balmy negative six degrees centigrade so I hope you packed your parkas. Please return your trays to their upright position and fasten your seatbelts, we will be landing shortly. Thank you,” the message ended with a soft crackle, excited whispers breaking out across the plane.

Viktor gripped Yuri’s hand as the plane began its turbulent descent. His dulled nails left small half moons imprinted on the back of his hand. There was a jerk as the plane touched the hard ground and Victor sighed, opening his eyes. He let go of Yuri’s hand, standing up to take down their luggage. Yuri leaned across the empty seat, poking Viktor stomach. He yelped, fumbling the backpack he held.

“Hey! What was that for?!” he cried out.

Yuri shrugged, a devilish grin on his lips, “Just payback,”.

Muttering empty threats under his breath, Viktor lead Yuri off of the plane. They followed the crowd to baggage claim, taking their place in front of the conveyor belts. Viktor set his backpack on the ground, stretching to ease the tension that had settled in his muscles. He leaned up against a pillar, taking off his scarf. All it took was someone staring and pointing before a small crowd had gathered around them. Cameras flashed as they asked for pictures and autographs. Yuri was startled by the sudden popularity. Somehow, he had forgotten that Viktor was not only a Russian heart throb, but that he himself was the underdog that the wonderful and perfect Viktor had pulled out of Japan. Viktor wrapped an arm around Yuri, smiling for the cameras. He shook some hands and signed some autographs before breaking away to grab their luggage. It rounded the corner on the conveyor belt, giving them an excuse to leave the fans. He took his suitcase handle in one hand, Yuri’s hand in the other. A large man stood by the door, a printed placard displaying their names. He ushered them into a very nice car, taking their belongings and placing them in the trunk. Viktor insisted on sitting in the back with Yuri, pressing their shoulders together. The normally uncomfortable and cramped backseat was a welcome change from the cold that had soaked into their bones. Their brief stint outside was enough to wake them up and make them zip up their coats.

Viktor leaned forward, speaking to the driver, “We’re headed to the Sheraton Palace Hotel,”.

The driver nodded, pulling out of the terminal’s garage.

“Welcome to Russia, my little piggy,” Viktor leaned back, looking out the window. 

Yuri was entranced with watching the fat snowflakes fall. They sped through the city, the inky black sky making the city seem that much brighter. The fluorescent signs cast a glow across every walk way, painting the snow brilliant shades of pinks and turquoise. Yuri bit at his bottom lip, lost in thought. He was so beautiful like this, Viktor thought to himself. It was the innocence of being nervous and excited, eyes wide with wonder at the new sights. Watching Yuri’s breath fog up the glass, Viktor’s heart began to pound. He was finally home. He could finally relax. Being back home also meant a little bit of showing off to Yuri. However, impressing Yuri had proven to be strangely difficult because the simplest things could win him over, and the elaborate gestures just went right over his head. When he competed with Yurio in Hasetsu, he didn’t demand any special prize. He just wanted to keep eating katsudon with his coach; but when Kenjiro practically confessed his love for him and poured his heart out to Yuri, Yuri was just confused by the act. Viktor decided that he was going to have to win over Yuri the old fashioned way: lots of praise and kisses. 

The car rolled to a stop under a brightly lit awning. Elaborate gold trim and icy snow sparkling around them. Viktor got out of the car first, holding his hand out to Yuri. Viktor beamed as Yuri took his hand, stepping out of the car. The chauffeur made his way around to the trunk and took their bags from the back, passing them over to a bell boy. Viktor kept a hold on Yuri’s hand as they walked through the lobby. 

“Hello, I have a room reserved under the name Nikiforov, Viktor Nikiforov,” he spoke with the employee, his native language rolling off his tongue. Yuri stared at him, he always seemed to be surprised when Viktor spoke Russian, amazed at how elegant he could make any language sound.

“Ah yes, the presidential suite. It is ready for you now, I can have someone take up your bags if you’d like,”.

Viktor flashed a charming smile, “That sounds wonderful, thank you. I was wondering, how late will the bar be open?”

The secretary blushed at the charisma he oozed, “It will be open until two in the morning, however we can make an exception for you, Mr. Nikiforov,”.

Viktor waved his hand, patting Yuri’s back, “Oh no, thank you, there’s no need for that. This little piggy will need to sleep soon,”.

Yuri’s face had reddened, picking out only a few familiar words. Bar, two, morning, little piggy. It was a confusing conversation in the least. Viktor thanked the secretary and lead Yuri over to the elevator. Yuri gave Viktor a quizzical look as they waited by the closed steel doors.

“What was that about?” Yuri asked in Japanese, his nerves present in his voice.

“Oh, I just checked us in and asked how late the bar was open. After all this travelling, I figured we could wind down with a drink before bed,” Viktor replied. Yuri nodded, looking down at his shoes. The door dinged and Viktor ushered Yuri into the plush elevator. He pressed a number, leaning against the railings. Yuri looked incredibly uncomfortable in the extravagant elevator. 

Viktor held out his arms, “Come here, Yuri. Are you alright?”.

Yuri shook his head, turning his back to Viktor, “I’m fine,” he mumbled. 

The elevator stopped, letting on other passengers. Yuri moved to the other side of the space, refusing to look at Viktor. There was something eating at him, but what was it? Viktor wanted to know. He wanted to make everything all better. He knew that he had pushed some boundaries on the flight, but he had thought he had fixed what he had wronged. Apparently not, he thought to himself. Their floor arrived and Viktor gently tapped Yuri’s shoulder. At the small gesture, Yuri flinched away. Viktor got off the elevator first, waiting to the side for Yuri. He practically flew out, quickly walking down the hall. Viktor trailed behind him, troubled by the outburst. He caught up to Yuri and unlocked the door. Makkachin barked with excitement, rushing over to say hello. Yuri dismissed the dog with a quick pet, claiming the only bed. He tugged off his shoes, crawling into ‘his’ bed without a moment’s hesitation. Viktor frowned as he crouched down to pet Makkachin. He tugged off his jacket, hanging it on a nearby hook.

“Oh Makkachin, what have I done?” he softly spoke in Russian, ruffling his dog’s curly brown fur. He pressed a kiss to the top of Makkachin’s head, “I’ll make it better. I promise. Keep him company while I’m gone,”.

Viktor stood up, making his way over to Yuri. He sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand over the velvet duvet.

“Hey Yuri?,” he began softly, “I’m going to go down to the bar for a drink. If you need me, call me. You can order room service too, everything’s on the JFS,”. 

Yuri grunted and pulled the blankets over his head. Viktor sighed, that was his cue to leave. He stood up, walking towards the door. Makkachin whined, butting his head against Viktor’s leg.

“Go lay with him,” Viktor pointed towards the lump of blankets that was Yuri. Makkachin huffed, trotting over to the bed. He jumped up, laying right next to Yuri’s head. Viktor closed the door with a click, running a hand through his hair. He wondered if Yakov ever got this frustrated when he was his student. He slightly chuckled at the thought, of course he did. In more ways than one, Viktor was just as immature and aggravating as Yuri, even to this day. It was no wonder why Yakov always claimed that Viktor was the reason that he drank. 

Viktor opted to take the stairs, hoping the physical exercise might shake the lethargy from his bones. The heels of his shoes clicked on the smooth stone as he made his descent, hand trailed behind him on the brass railing. Viktor savoured moments like these. The moments he had all to himself, in complete silence and solitude. He studied the gray veins that laced the marble steps, admiring the natural beauty. He made it to the lobby in seemingly no time, the minutes whisked away in his thoughts. He pushed open a solid oak door, the ambient chit chat of guests occupying what was previously silence. He waved at the secretary at the front desk as he made his way across the lobby. The bar was a small area off to the left of the lobby with one long island and a few tables. Viktor took a seat on a leather padded stool, admiring the bottles that lined the back of the bar. 

“What’ll you be having?” the bartender made his way down to Viktor, wiping down the counter as he went.

Viktor leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the wood and his chin on his hands, “A glass of red wine will do, don’t care which one,”.

The bartender nodded, pulling a glass from the overhead racks. The pianist in the lobby began to play Chopin, steering Viktor’s thoughts right back to Yuri. He mentally kicked himself. Of course he couldn’t get the kid out of his mind. He was head over heels and totally screwed.

A couple of hours ticked by as Viktor sipped on his wine. He spoke with the bartender about everything but work. The topics of weather and sports had been worn out ten times over by the time he finished his first glass. He ordered a second, this time drinking in silence. Tracing his finger along the patterns of the wood grain, he felt to feel the wine fuzz his thoughts. His irritability at the thought of Yuri dulled into a longing. The way he spoke. The way he ate. The way he skated- there was nothing that Yuri didn’t look perfect doing. Viktor just wanted to scoop him up and shower him with all the kisses and love in the world. 

He set his empty glass on the mahogany and slid the bartender a tip before leaving to go back to bed. He took the stairs again, this time for fear of falling asleep in the elevator. The echoing of his steps was not calming this time around, but rather lonely and empty. He quickened his pace, anxious to get back to his room. Fumbling his room key, he quietly opened his door. Viktor slipped off his shoes and peeked his head around the corner. What he saw next was nothing short of angelic. Yuri was sprawled out on the bed, Makkachin curled up in his arms. A dopey grin was plastered across Viktor’s face as he took to the couch. He tugged off his pants and awkwardly unbuttoned his shirt. He silently cursed wine for being so delicious yet making him lose all fine-motor skills. Eventually he ditched his shirt, the last step before being able to go to sleep. He pulled down the blanket that draped over the back of the couch, wrapping himself in the luxuriously soft fleece. With the picture of Yuri in his mind and wine in his belly, Viktor finally drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what'd you think? Let me know on my Tumblr: sunprairie.tumblr.com


	4. Don't Push Me Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is faced with days of Yuri's angst and rudeness, neither of them seem to be able to take much more.

The sun shone in through the large windows that lit the living room, illuminating Viktor’s sprawled out figure. Yuri tiptoed around the room. He made his way to the phone in the kitchenette, dialing for room service. He had rehearsed the order in his head many times over, practicing his Russian under his breath. The line on the other end picked up after a few rings.

“Good morning, how may we help you today?”.

“I’d like to order a vegetable omelette and a glass of orange juice please,”.

“And the blueberry blinis!” Viktor was suddenly behind Yuri, leaning over to speak into the receiver. Yuri jumped, fumbling the phone. Viktor caught the phone, laughing.

“Thank you very much,” said Viktor, hanging up and placing the phone down.

Yuri scowled, “You can’t just scare me like that,”.

“You shouldn’t order without me, little piggy,” Viktor smiled, ruffling his hair. Yuri ducked out from under his hand, walking back to his bed. Viktor shook his head, walking over to his suitcases. He rummaged through the pockets, finally pulling out dog food. He had insisted on bringing Makkachins favorite brand with him, all the way from Japan. He shook some into a bowl, setting it aside. Makkachin happily trotted over and began eating. Still sitting by his suitcase, Viktor checked the weather on his phone. It was going to be a nice and sunny winters day, the temperatures peaking at around 40 degrees fahrenheit. It would be the perfect day to walk around the city before being cooped up in an ice rink for the rest of the week. 

“How would you like to go on a walk, my sweet Makkachin?” Viktor crooned, leaning over to pet his dog. Makkachin’s tail began to wag, despite the fact that his face was still occupied with eating breakfast. Viktor smiled, pressing a kiss to Makkachin’s forehead.

“I’m going to eat and then shower and get dressed. Then we can go explore the city. How’s that sound?” 

Makkachin licked his chops, barking once in agreement. Viktor laughed, standing up. He sat on the couch, picking up the remote to channel surf. There were plenty of news channels, but that wasn’t what he was looking for. He finally landed on a channel, familiar music playing from the speakers. It was On Love: Eros, Yuri’s piece. There was a channel that played old skating competitions on loop, and this time it happened to be playing Yuri and Yurio’s showdown at the Ice Castle Hasetsu. Viktor leaned back against the pillows, smiling at the nostalgia that had overcome him. Even though the competition was only months ago, it felt like eons. Yuri had grown up so much and his performances had gone from good, to straight up electrifying. 

There was a loud knock at the door. Yuri let in the waiter and his large cart, taking the plates to the table. Yuri set one near Viktor, taking his own to his bed. Hardly taking his eyes off the screen, Viktor balanced his plate on his knees as he ate. Scarfing down his breakfast, he barely tasted the food since he was so enamored with the performances. He critiqued technique and performance quality, talking to the TV, and gesturing with a full fork. He yelled out when Yuri landed his triple Salchow, Makkachin barking along with the excitement.

Once the programs ended and the blinis were finished, Viktor clipped a leash onto Makkachin.

“Hey, Yuri?” Viktor called out, lacing up his shoes, “I’m going to take Makka on a walk. You sure you don’t want to come?”.

“Nyet,” was his terse reply.

“Okay- well um, take the day off. We can start working out tomorrow,” Viktor replied, trying to keep a positive tone. He zipped up his parka and put on his sunglasses, looping the leash around his wrist. 

Viktor’s walk around Moscow was more than he could have ever hoped for. The day was bright, without any wind to blow away the warmth of the sun. The Red Square was bustling as always. People rushing in and out of stores, buying last minute Christmas presents. Viktor had already picked out Yuri’s gift, certain that it was a perfect fit. He stopped in the center of the square, taking in all the sights he could possibly manage. It had been far too long since he was home and he was incredibly thankful that fate allowed him to stay for so long. He picked up sandwiches at a local deli for lunch. He hoped to surprise Yuri with the lunch. But even more than that, he hoped to soothe over their rocky relationship. He wouldn’t stop until everything got better. 

The walk back to the hotel was gorgeous, clouds scattered across the sky. The skyline was illuminated with the soft glow of a cloud-covered sun, giving the whole city a dreamy feel. Viktor tightened his scarf around his neck, despite the sunshine that warmed his shoulders. He couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that resided in the pit of his stomach. A thought flashed across his mind, involuntarily tightening his chest. Yuri was hurting.

~

Day number two rolled around after another night on the couch. The sun blinding Viktor much like yesterday morning. He groaned, forcing himself to sit up and face the day. Today would be a training day. Unlike most coaches, Viktor worked out with Yuri rather than sat and instructed. He desired to maintain his shape and maybe even return to skating someday, so there was no time to slack. Yuri was already lacing up his shoes by the time Viktor finished breakfast, eager to get going and get his day over with. Before the door swung shut, Viktor darted back inside. Yuri clenched his jaw, irritated by anything and everything Viktor did. Viktor quickly returned and handed Yuri a waterbottle and a pair of headphones.

“I thought you might not want to forget these,”.

Yuri slightly nodded, still fuming, “Thanks,”.

They made their way down to the hotel gym in silence, Yuri wasting no time to plug in his headphones and drown out Viktor. Trying to ignore the sting of the cold shoulder he was given, Viktor stretched. He started small, first touching his toes and then working his way into the splits. He leaned over his front leg, relishing the pain that came along with a good stretch. As he switched legs, he put in his own pair of headphones. He hit shuffle and hopped onto an open treadmill. Not bothering to start at a slow pace, Viktor wanted to run out all of his frustrations. The treadmill whirred to life as the stationary track began to move. Hands down, the first ten minutes were the hardest. He had to get used to the initial burn of his muscles and pain in his chest, as well as the sweat that began to roll down his face and the back of his neck. Viktor huffed and puffed, but the more tired he got, the harder he pushed. 

Running had always been Viktor’s least favorite workout. Long lasting cardio and stamina proved to be the hardest skills to master, thus that was all Yakov made him do. However, over the years, he had begun to appreciate the monotony of running. You could think up a novel and a half over the course of a three mile run. You could choreograph a whole program and free skate too. As much as Viktor hated running, it was the best way to get all of his feelings out. Yurio called him a masochist for desiring pain to release frustrations, but they were similar in that way. 

An hour flew by as Viktor pushed his body to the limit. Soaked with sweat and out of breath, Viktor stepped off to the side to take a well deserved break. He used the hem of his shirt to wipe off the sweat from his forehead, however, due to its dampened state, it didn’t do much. He looked around the gym for Yuri between sips of his water. He spotted him in the corner doing what was probably his millionth sit up. Viktor made his way over, sitting beside him on the mats. 

As Viktor sat and began his warm down, he thought to himself, ‘One would assume that after working out for an hour, one might look a tad disheveled or tired, right? But not Yuri. God no. Yuri Katsuki, of course, had to look downright gorgeous,’.

His hair was swept back, bangs slicked back against his head. His already tight gym shirt clinging to him even tighter (if that was possible). His glasses had been placed aside. Must be because the sweat made them slip down, Viktor mused to himself as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. Yuri gave him an oddly confused look, squinting at him through thick eyelashes. Viktor flashed him a smile and apparently that was enough of an indicator for Yuri to recognize his coach. He propped himself up on his elbows, retrieving his glasses from a nearby mat. 

“What, Viktor. You made me lose count,” Yuri huffed, annoyed by the interruption.

“Oh- I just wanted to see how you were doing. Would you like me to hold your feet?” Viktor asked, slightly moving towards Yuri’s feet.

“Fine,” Yuri huffed, laying back against the mats. He couldn’t believe that he was breaking his silence over something as mundane as sit ups. Yuri placed his glasses by his feet as Viktor placed his hands over Yuri’s laces, firmly anchoring his feet. He was pleased to see that Yuri’s cold shoulder was warming up, even if it was at a glacial pace (pun intended). He resumed his work out, his strength threatening to lift Viktor right up. Viktor chuckled at the sudden force that was applied. Around his fiftieth sit up, Yuri began to get winded. He slowed down, struggling the rest of the way to seventy five. 

Viktor couldn’t take his eyes off of Yuri, staring at him the whole time. For once, he was thankful for his horrible vision. He marvelled at Yuri’s sculpted calves and toned arms. He wished that Yuri could see everything that he did. No, it wasn’t that. Viktor wanted Yuri to see what he saw and believe everything that he said. He made it halfway up a sit up and flopped back down. He wiped his hand across his forehead, grimacing at the sweat that drenched his hand. Yuri pulled up the neck of his shirt over his eyes, using the slightly less wet fabric like a towel. He sat up, putting on his glasses.

“Let’s go,” he practically commanded, standing up.

~

Viktor woke up early on the third day. It was a big rehearsal day with all the other skaters and Viktor was anxious and excited all the same. He could hardly sleep the night before, finally forcing himself to sleep so he would look his best. He quickly showered, tugging on a crisp gray button down and maroon sweater. Fussing with his hair, he ordered room service for the two of them. Yuri was slower to start, but equally nervous. He tugged on one of his many matching athletic outfits, specially ordered by Viktor. He had insisted that such “high status skaters, such as himself” should look the part off the ice as much as on the ice. They ate breakfast in silence, shaky silverware clicking against the plates. 

“Today will be a wonderful day to build a relationship with the other skaters. Take some selfies with Phichit and Yurio- for the fans. So on and so forth,”.

Yuri grunted, stacking his dirty dishes in a pile. He began to tie his shoes, running over a mental checklist in his head. Viktor was quite quick to pick up the list out loud.

“You have skates, tissues, and water?”.

“Yes, Viktor,”.

“Gloves, jacket, charger, and chapstick?”.

“Yes, Viktor,”.

“Velikiy! I’ll put on my shoes and we can go!” Viktor clapped his hands together.

Rather than calling a cab, Viktor insisted that they took the subway down to the rink. He dreaded the attention brought, but he missed the nostalgia of it all. The grimy stations and the questionable seats, everything. The subway car jolted to a stop, dropping them off just outside of the rink. Viktor all but skipped into the the arena, a bundle of unbridled joy. Leaning on the rinks edge, Viktor settled down to watch Yuri. He had quickly found Phichit and joined him in stretches, much to Viktor’s relief. Most skaters were still in transit so Viktor decided to use the empty ice to his advantage. Viktor laced up his skates and joined Yuri on the ice.

“Are you warmed up enough?” Viktor tugged on his gloves.

“Yep,” the reply was far ruder than the singular word could convey. Viktor’s smile faded.

“Let’s work on your quads right now. Start with your toe loop first,” he skated back, leaning on the railing. 

“Fine,” Yuri snapped. Viktor frowned in frustration. He could handle Yuri being cold and distant, but being outwardly rude was getting on his nerves. Yuri built momentum, skating towards Viktor. His approach on the jump was warped, allowing him to only complete a triple before he stumbled into a touchdown landing. Yuri scoffed, kicking up some ice. He skated back once again, preparing for the jump. He sped up, attempting the jump for a second time. He got in the four rotations, but his balance was off and he wiped out. Sliding across the ice, he muttered Japanese curses under his breath. He pulled off a glove, throwing it onto the ice in frustration. Viktor was wide eyed at the outburst, quickly skating over to see what was wrong. 

“Yuri,” he reached out with a consoling hand. It was batted away, as Yuri skated off in a rush. He stormed off to the bathrooms, not bothering to cover his blades. Viktor followed close behind him, catching him by the wrist. He tightened his grip, forcing Yuri to look at him. 

“What is going on, Yuri? You are never angry. Who hurt you?” Viktor pried, concern written all over his face.

“You did. You hurt me, Viktor,” for the first time in days, Yuri stared Viktor straight in the eyes, and for the first time in days, Viktor wanted him to look away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Velikiy!- Great!  
> Nyet- No.
> 
> This is the final bit of angst! The worst part is finally over, don't worry.
> 
> Hmu sunprairie.tumblr.com


	5. How Do You Say You're Sorry?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri finally snaps and Viktor unloads a mountain of truth.

“You did. You hurt me Viktor,” Yuri’s voice was full of pain.

“I never meant to hurt you…” Viktor was confused and blindsided by the accusation, “What did I even do? You know you mean the world to me- I never want to hurt you…”.

Yuri yanked his wrist out of Viktor’s grip, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. His bottom lip quivered, not with sadness but with anger. 

“Viktor, you know I have bad self esteem. You know that I am not confident. You know that I hate how I look, so why would you keep calling me a damn pig? It’s always ‘little piggy’ this and ‘little piggy’ that. Why the hell do you tell me that I don’t need to lose weight if you just keep calling me a pig?!” angry tears sprung from Yuri’s eyes, the ferocity in his voice shocking Viktor.

“You can’t keep feeding me this bullshit about you finding me beautiful because you obviously don’t. It’s all fucking lies! You think I’m a fat fucking pig and I need to take a hint and lose even more weight. I shouldn’t be able to skate with people who are so much skinnier than me-” Yuri’s rant was cut short by a soft sob. This time it didn’t come from himself, but rather from his coach. Viktor quickly pulled him into a hug, trying to hide the tears that now streaked his face. His heart was shattered into a million pieces. How could Yuri think that he hated him? How could he think that he thought he still needed to lose weight? He held Yuri impossibly close, speaking in a hushed tone. His voice shook, betraying his calm intentions.

“Yuri. I never mean to call you fat when I call you little piggy. I call you that because all you wanted from me in Hasetsu was to eat pork cutlet bowls with you. It means that I am yours when I call you ‘little piggy’. It’s what I called you when I started coaching you. It means that we have succeeded, and are to continue to succeed, so we can eat katsudon together yet again,” he pulled away, placing both of his hands on Yuri’s shoulders.

“Yuri, I would never say a single word to harm you. I never want to make you hurt. I want to make it all better because you deserve to know how beautiful you are. I just want you to know that…” Viktor trailed off, the first of the pair to break eye contact. Yuri was speechless. How could he have ever guessed that being called a pig could mean so much. 

Viktor’s face was contorted in thought and frustration. He knew what he needed to tell Yuri but his mantra circulated through his thoughts once again. Coach first, friend second. A small voice in the back of his head nudged at him. ‘What Yuri needs right now is a friend. He needs you.’ He couldn’t say it, but he had to. It was his only chance. Viktor took a deep breath, forcing his gaze back onto Yuri.

“Yuri Katsuki. I want you to know that you are beautiful. You are so incredibly handsome. I can never say it enough,” his grip tightened on Yuri’s shoulders, “The real reason that I came to Japan wasn’t just because you were good and had potential. Yuri, I came because the day that I watched that video, I fell in love with you. And now that I am here, I have fallen even harder. You are the kindest soul I have ever met. You deserve the world and I just want to give it all to you. I want to give you the world, Yuri,”.

Yuri stood in silence, his eyes the size of dinner plates. Viktor immediately realized his mistake and began to backpedal. He let go of Yuri’s jacket, smoothing down the lumps his grip made.

“Der'mo- I know it was stupid to say that, but it’s true. I understand if you don’t feel the same way. It’s okay if you still only view me as a coach, because that’s what I am. I don’t have to be anymore than that…” a soft hand was placed on his shoulder causing him to trail off. His eyes flicked up to meet Yuri’s. Despite all the tears, he was smiling. Why was he smiling? Viktor’s brain was spinning, trying to explain the emotional turnabout. Yuri sniffed, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, grinning.

“You suck,” he leaned up on his skates and pressed a kiss to Viktor’s cheek. It was now Viktor’s turn to be speechless. He gaped at Yuri, weakly trying gesture in place of the words that escaped him.

“You aren’t mad?” were the first words that he could coordinate. Yuri slightly laughed, looking down at the floor.

“I mean I was never really mad. I just didn’t get why you would call me a pig if you knew I struggled with my weight. Without the context, I was just hurt and confused,”.

“Oh Yuri,” Viktor shook his head, “I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I can give you space if you’d like… I just kind of exploded with all those confessions,”.

He stepped back, straightening his jacket. ‘Coach first, friend second? Yeah right. Already fucked that one up,’ Viktor mused to himself, fixing his hair in the mirror. He turned to leave but was stopped by Yuri’s figure. He looked down at the hand pressed into the middle of his chest.

“Yuri, we need to get back out there. Practice is starting,”.

“Wait. You never asked me how I felt about this whole “loving me” thing,”.

Viktor furrowed his brow, preparing for the worst, “So, how do you feel about all of this?”.

Yuri beamed, throwing his arms around Viktor. Their collective balance wobbled atop their skates. He peppered Viktor’s cheeks with kisses, covering the blush that had suddenly appeared. Viktor was grinning from ear to ear, hugging Yuri close. 

“I love it,”.

Viktor laughed, pushing Yuri’s bangs out of his face, “It’s a damn shame you feel so bad. I think we’ll have to go get some coffee to calm down,”.

Yuri frowned, his good nature showing, “Won’t we get in trouble for skipping?”.

“Not if I pull out the puppy dog eyes. Now look miserable so we can pull this off,”.

The look on Yuri’s face would’ve broken Viktor’s heart had he not ordered it. They stormed out of the bathroom and to their seats. They took off their skates, Viktor feigning annoyance by snapping at Yuri. He walked over to Yakov, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“My dear Yakov, a certain someone needs a break. We will be back as soon as we’re calmed down,”.

Yakov laughed, patting Viktor on the back, “It’s about time that you had a pain in your ass instead being one,”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Viktor, feigning innocence and an offended look.

Yakov’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head at Viktor’s comment. 

“Just go away, pridurok. Unlike you, I have a rehearsal to run. You better be working twice as hard tomorrow,”.

Viktor saluted Yakov, shouldering his bag. He walked over to Yuri, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him out of the rink. He scolded him about his bad attitude, voice echoing onto the ice behind them. He pushed through the double doors with a flourish, demeanor changing instantly. His grip on Yuri’s elbow slid down so they could hold hands. 

Their impromptu coffee date was nice, their conversations flowing as comfortably as before. Albeit, they got some odd looks from their half Japanese, half Russian conversations. They had abandoned their jackets long ago, leaving them on the back of their chairs. The hot coffee warmed them from the inside out, thawing their seemingly permanently frozen fingers. 

“Hey Yuri, would you rather I just call you katsudon than little piggy? I don’t want to upset you anymore,”.

Yuri smiled into his mug, taking a sip, “That’s perfect. Thank you for being so considerate,”.

Viktor waved him off, “It was my fault in the first place. I just wanna fix it,”.

“Spasibo, Viktor,”.

“Chto-nibud' dlya vas, dorogaya,”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spasibo- Thank you.  
> Chto-nibud' dlya vas, dorogaya- Anything for you, darling.
> 
> I had to post this just to clear the air. It's shorter but I don't thing anything could follow up something like that. Please let me know what you think in the comments or on my tumblr: sun prairie.tumblr.com !


	6. Why Do You Love Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings are finally aired out after far too much repression. (Also it looks an awful lot like Yuri is a good kisser)

After their coffees were finished, Viktor and Yuri began to head back to their hotel. Viktor had convinced Yuri that he could afford to take the rest of the day off, despite his many concerns.

“They won’t be mad?”.

“Of course not,”.

“Are you sure that they won’t kick me out?”.

“Yuri, for the millionth time, you’ll be fine. I promise,” Viktor sighed, taking Yuri’s hand in his own. He laced their fingers together, giving Yuri’s hand a slight squeeze. The wheels of their skating bags clicked behind them, syncopating with their footsteps.

“Besides, we still need to work out the details of your new practice program. I’m not sure that I want to stick with Chopin after all,”.

Yuri slightly nodded, distracted by the views of the city. Snow had fallen overnight, blanketing the city in white powder. The revolving door to their hotel welcomed them into a warm lobby. Once the elevator doors dinged shut, Yuri turned to Viktor. 

“Hey Viktor?”

“Yes, Yuri?” Viktor turned to look at him.

“You said you fell in love with me when you first saw the video, right?”

“I did, why?”

Yuri slightly laughed, blushing, “That was gonna be my question,”.

Viktor nodded, leaning back against the wall. How could he explain what was just so magnetic about Yuri? It wasn’t anything tangible. It was far deeper than that. Looking at him now was like looking at the stars on a summer night and realizing that you are home. But that wasn’t how it felt when he first started coaching. He reached into the archives of his memories, trying to remember just exactly what it was that pulled him halfway across the globe. The doors slid open, revealing their hallway. Rolling their bags down the hall, Viktor began to find the right words.

“Well, at first it was a selfish desire to change up my career to keep people interested. I’m not going to lie about that. I mean, a famous Russian skater flying to Japan to coach? Even I couldn’t deny that the publicity would be insane…” Viktor pushed open the door to their suite, “But then I kept watching and it suddenly wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about the publicity stunt or even about the attention. It was all about you. I saw the fire in your eyes. Yuri, It was unlike any skater I had ever watched. You were more than just captivating. Everything about you was magnificent and flawless,”.

Yuri blushed, kicking off his shoes at the door, “Including my extra fifty pounds. Yakov was right, you are crazy,”.

Viktor held a finger to his lips, sitting on the couch, “Shh- I’m not done yet,”.

Yuri laughed, sitting next to him, “My apologies, go on, I’m listening,”.

Viktor smiled, “Thank you. Now, since I was so determined to make a grand entrance, I said goodbye to Yakov and got on the first flight to Japan. And that’s when I got to Yu-topia. I got in late so I hung out in the onsen for a little bit, but then you came flying in the door. That was when I realized that I was totally screwed. You were all disheveled and concerned, but you still looked adorable. You couldn’t believe that I was there to coach you, and I couldn’t believe you could be so cute without even trying. But that wasn’t all. Then there was the first time I got to see you skate in person. Watching you on the ice, I knew it was right. I mean, I knew that we were right,”.

“But how did you know we were right?” Yuri pried, he was like a little kid that asked why, no matter what you said. Viktor stretched his legs out in front of himself, sucking in a deep breath as he thought.

“When I looked at you, it was like when you land a quadruple toe loop after days of failed practices. Watching you skate filled me with nothing but pride and excitement,” Viktor wrapped an arm around Yuri’s waist, tugging him closer. Yuri tucked his legs up, leaning into Viktor’s side.

“You’re nothing short of a miracle, Yuri” he murmured, leaning over to speak into his ear. Yuri shivered, a chill running down his spine. 

Viktor smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of his ear, “I’m so proud of you, my little katsudon,”. 

Yuri blushed furiously, burying his face into Viktor’s chest. Viktor smiled, patting Yuri on the back. Eventually, Yuri sat up and faced Viktor with crossed legs. A serious expression had taken over his face.

“Now it’s your turn,” he said, mildly concerning Viktor.

“My turn for what?”

“Your turn to ask why I wanted you to stay here,”.

“You didn’t fall in love with me, did you?”

Yuri let out an exaggerated sigh, throwing his arms in the air, “You just went and spoiled the whole story, Viktor,”.

Viktor laughed, moving to sit across from Yuri, copying his seated pose, “Prosti- prosti- Please tell me why you wanted me to stay. Why did you want me to eat katsudon with you so badly, Yuri?”

Yuri adjusted his glasses, a slight smile playing on his lips, “I thought you’d never ask. Well, first off, I’ve loved you since I was little. But back then, it was really just because you were super cool and good at skating. I wanted to be just like you. Man, you have no idea. Yuuko and I used to watch your programs on repeat, trying to learn them down to every last detail. We would beg our moms to make us costumes just like yours and would refuse to skate without them. I’m sure that there are still albums full of pictures of us somewhere at the onsen,”.

Yuri blushed looking away, “I had all of your posters too. They completely covered my walls. I even got a few that were autographed,”.

Viktor laughed, “I remember those! They were all piled up under your bed!”.

Yuri turned a brilliant shade of crimson. He could feel his soul leave his body from sheer embarrassment. He covered his face with his hands, mortified heat radiating off of him in waves.

“Those were supposed to be hidden...”.

“They were hidden very poorly. But regardless, do go on,”.

Yuri sighed, reluctantly removing his hands from his face, “Well, I had a lot of posters because you were my idol. You know about Vicchan; a dog just like yours, but named after you. So maybe I was a little more than obsessed. Eventually I got good enough at skating to compete in my first Grand Prix Final with you. That was one of the scariest days of my life. Everything seemed to be crumbling around me. Vicchan passed away and I had gained weight from grief and stress eating. So, as I had a mental breakdown, I put on my costume and I skated. I ended up placing last, but it wasn’t before I got to see you skate. Mind you, I was barely holding it together, but then you got up there and nothing else mattered. It was like you stole my heart and ran away with my soul,”.

Yuri looked out the window, eyes glassed over with the memories, “It was pretty monumental, but the biggest moment was when I went back home. It was the day you moved in. I had only been home a few days and was trying to take off my shoes, but Makkachin tackled me. From there, I just put together the pieces until I found out that you were sitting in the springs. Like actually in my home. It was like a dream, but like a really crazy fever dream. Nothing made sense and I felt really happy, but I was mostly just confused. After the initial shock of hanging out with you wore off, I just wanted to be around you all the time. It was like I craved you nonstop. I guess after the Yuri versus Yurio showdown, I realized just how much you meant to me. I didn’t know what I had until it was almost gone,”.

Yuri looked down at his hands, slightly smiling, “I’m really glad you stayed,”.

“Me too,” Viktor murmured, suddenly quite close to Yuri. His slender finger tipped Yuri’s chin up as he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He marvelled at the electricity that sparked between them, closing his eyes. He had dreamt of this moment for months, but he had never, in a million years, expected Yuri to kiss back. He kissed back without hesitation, resting a hand on Viktor’s chest. Viktor pulled Yuri closer, his hand at the nape of his neck. His fingers looped in his disheveled brown locks. His tongue hesitantly darted out, probing Yuri’s lips. Yuri’s lips parted, inviting Viktor in. Viktor pulled Yuri onto his lap, wrapping his arm around his waist. Just as Viktor thought he couldn’t be surprised anymore, Yuri moved from his lips to his jaw. He bit his lip hard, a soft groan slipping through his clenched jaw. He could’ve sworn that Yuri smirked as he worked his way down his neck. Each kiss becoming softer than the last until Yuri sat facing Viktor once again.

Viktor softly whistled, not even trying to hide his amazed expression, “Where did you learn to do that, my little katsudon? That was impressive,”.

Yuri softly kissed Viktor on the nose, “I just winged it, but I had some help from Eros,”.


	7. The One Where Yuri Katsuki Dies of Embarrassment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Viktor finally take to rehearsing in Moscow and it is interesting, to say in the least. Shout out to Phichit for posting all the behind the scenes glory though.

“Hey, Yuri?”

“What’s up?” Yuri unscrewed the lid of his toothpaste, squeezing some onto his toothbrush.

“When are we gonna tell people?”

“Tell people what?”

“That we’re together. Like actually dating now,”.

Yuri slightly smiled, “I think they already know. Or at least I know that a lot of people already think we are,”.

“Really?”

“Really. Here, I’ll show you,”.

Yuri stuck his toothbrush in his mouth, haphazardly brushing with his left hand as he pulled up some fan accounts online. He handed Viktor his phone, going back to brushing his teeth. Viktor scrolled through the pictures, a red blush spreading across his cheeks.

“They call us Victuri? Like the English word, victory?”

Yuri nodded.

“That is so cute! I love it!” he scrolled a bit more before gasping, “Look at this!”.

He shoved Yuri’s phone in his face, showing him a picture of the two of them. It was from their most recent competition, their noses and cheeks dusted with pink from the chill of the rink. They were hugging each other tightly. Yuri had just finished his free skate and Viktor was in tears.

“Just look at you! You’re so tiny!” Viktor remarked, pointing at his feet in the picture. Yuri had tipped forward on his skates, using the extra couple inches of blade as a step stool of sorts. 

Yuri rolled his eyes, trying to talk around his mouthful of toothpaste, “I’s only cos you’re se’en cen’ime’ers taller ‘an me,”.

Viktor cocked his head in confusion, “Yuri, dorogaya, I have no idea what you just said. I can barely understand and speak Japanese as it,”.

Yuri spit into the sink, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, “Prosti, I was just saying that you’re taller than me so I had to stand on my tip toes,”.

Viktor devilishly grinned, leaning on the door frame, “This means only one thing,”.

Yuri’s eyes widened with concern. 

“I get to be big spoon!” Viktor cried out, throwing his arms around Yuri who merely sighed. 

Yuri went about his morning as usual, but this time with Viktor clinging to his back like a koala. He was so excited to go to the rink and to finally get back to skating. He had tied his and Yuri’s shoes before Yuri could even finish zipping up his jacket. He practically skipped all the way to the subway, despite the freezing wind that blew right through them. Viktor grabbed onto the overhead railing with one hand, his other wrapped around Yuri’s waist. They watched colored tiles fly by the windows as they sped downtown. Viktor groaned, scrunching his face up in frustration.

“Der’mo- I forgot to pick out a new song for you,” he sighed, biting at the inside of his cheek.

Yuri pulled his headphones, offering one to Viktor, “We have a while until we get to the rink, let’s sit and look to see what you have,”. 

Viktor beamed, sitting beside Yuri in an open seat, “My little katsudon, you’re so smart!”.

He plugged the headphones into his phone, scrolling through lists of songs. He opened the skating playlist, going through song after song. Each one sounded the same and it was beginning to get on his nerves. He leaned back, letting out a sharp breath. 

“I’m sorry, Yuri… This is a mess,” Viktor pouted. Yuri took the phone from his hand, scrolling through the songs. He exited out of the previous playlist and looked through the plethora of others.

“It’s okay, you just need someone with a different perspective. What’s this playlist for?” he pointed at an unnamed playlist with his thumb, opening it.

“That’s one of the first playlists I made when I started skating. They’re mostly overused songs. You won’t find much,”.

He clicked through the songs, making almost entirely through the playlist before stopping. Music filled the space between them and Viktor perked up. 

“Oh! I remember this! When I was younger, I really really wanted to skate to this song, but Yakov refused. He really wanted me to stick with classical music pieces. It’s is called ‘Rekviyem po mechte’,”.

“I want to do this one,”.

Viktor smiled, “Okay. It’s settled then. Rekviyem it is,”.

Viktor’s smile grew as they got closer and closer to the rink. He had long forgotten about that song, but the fact that Yuri dug it back up must mean that they were meant to be. He dug his notebook out of his backpack and began to make changes to Yuri’s costume. The whole color palette would have to change to fit the music. The theme would have to go to.

“What do you think about a more military-ish costume?” Viktor mused, erasing lines.

“That would look really badass. Plus then I can be fighting for you to stay. The theme can be fighting for you against Yurio,”.

Viktor grinned, pressing a kiss to Yuri’s forehead, “You are too sweet,”.

Yuri blushed, looking down at his hands, “It’s kinda how it felt. I didn’t want to lose you, so I had to fight,”.

Viktor’s heart leapt against his ribs. He glanced over at Yuri, a nervous smile playing on his lips. Yuri offered him a blinding grin in return which didn’t help at all. He tucked his notebook back into his bag, standing up. He held his hand out to Yuri, interlocking their fingers as he helped him stand. The car slid to a stop, doors opening on cue with a tinny voice. They walked across the snowy sidewalk quickly. The weather had picked up quite rapidly, turning a pleasant winter day into one that was dreaded from the moment you woke up. Music drifted in from the ice. Walking back to the locker room, the familiar sounds of skates on ice, woke Yuri up. Viktor put their belongings in a tall metal locker while Yuri tied his skates. Finishing off the knot, he slipped on his gloves and began to head out. Viktor was close behind, tissues and speaker in hand.

Yurio and Yakov had already claimed half of the ice, arriving far earlier than necessary. 

“Dobroye utro, Yakov! Dobroye utro, Yurio!” Viktor called out, waving at them. Yakov tersely nodded towards him in response, turning back to Yurio, scolding him for something asinine. Viktor skated over to Yuri.

“We should spend most of today working on the basics, but first we have to warm up,” he tugged on Yuri’s arm, leading him as he skated backwards, “How many laps do you wanna do today?”.

“Mmm, I’m not super warm so let’s do six?”

Viktor nodded, “Let’s make it eight. I’m gonna take two slow to warm up, and then hit six for cardio,”.

Their skates clicked on the ice as they made their way. Navigating their way around Yurio, Yakov, their laps sped up. Yuri pulled ahead of Viktor in the last lap, flashing him a smile as he sped past. Sweaty and short of breath, Yuri finished before Viktor, stripping off his thin jacket. He used it to mop up his perspiration, tossing it by Viktor’s plush, poodle tissue box. Viktor skated up behind him, leaning on Yuri for support.

“Iisus Christos, Yuri. You’re too fast,” Viktor huffed.

“You’re just slow,” Yuri smiled. Viktor pouted, reaching over the wall to grab his water. He took a long swig, swishing it around in his mouth. He held the bottle out to Yuri, who happily obliged. Viktor could practically hear Yurio rolling his eyes from across the rink. He slapped on a bright smile, waving at the short blonde. 

“That is disgusting!” Yurio called across the ice.

Grinning, Viktor took Yuri by his waist, dropping him into a dip. Yuri was gripping Viktor’s jacket, startled by the sudden motion. Viktor gently kissed Yuri, laughing at the mortified shout it elicited. Both Yakov and Yurio were in shock, much like Yuri. However, they weren’t the only ones. Whilst they were racing to warm up, Phichit, JJ, Guang-Hong, and Leo (and all their coaches) had shown up. Yurio’s disgusted grunts were accompanied by shocked whispers from the other members. Yuri shakily stood up, blush covering him from head to toe.

“Well… I guess we don’t have to tell anyone here,” Yuri murmured, his soul leaving his body. In a cruel twist of comedy, his sentence was punctuated by the flash on Phichit's phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorogaya- Darling.  
> Der'mo- Shit.  
> Rekviyem po mechte- Requiem for a dream.  
> Dobroye utro- Good morning.
> 
> I can't wait to get into the social side of all the skaters hanging out!!! PhiSHIT is a g though. Please let me know what you think in the comments, or on my tumblr sun prairie.tumblr.com.
> 
> Yuri's program is based off of this amazing video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ieGEldCNSY&t=324s


	8. Dinner for 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yakov takes the team out for dinner as a diplomatic gesture. Yurio's a little shit and Viktor is tipsy.

“So Yurio, what’s it like to have Viktor stolen from you twice?” JJ teased, leaning against a nearby locker. He flipped his hair, staring at his reflection in a mirror across the way. Yurio stiffened, throwing his skates into his bag.

“That dumb katsudon only stole my senior debut. I’m glad to be rid of that ass anyway,” Yurio barked, slamming his locker door shut. He’d never admit to anyone that he actually missed his old coach.

“It sure doesn’t sound like it,” Georgi chimed in, tugging on his street clothes. Yurio shot him a piercing glare.

“Which one of us is still butthurt over their ex, even though it’s almost been half a year? Oh yeah, it’s you,” Yurio snapped, storming out of the locker room. Georgi held a soft hand to his heart, a pained look on his face. ‘What a baby,’ Yurio thought to himself, standing beside Yakov.

“You’re fine, lover boy. It’s been forever. Move on already,” JJ rolled his eyes, following Yurio out. He met up with all the coaches and skaters. Yakov had coordinated a group dinner, trying to play the role of a kind host. Talking about their upcoming programs, they were buzzing with excitement. Phichit made his way around to Yuri as soon as he was changed, pulling him aside. He was practically vibrating with all of the questions that were bouncing around in his head.

“Since when are you and Viktor a couple?! And more importantly, why didn’t you tell me?!” Phichit grabbed Yuri by his shoulders. 

Yuri jumped, startled by the sudden attention, “We just started dating yesterday, Phichit. I don’t even know what I’m doing. Help me,”.

Phichit laughed, letting go, “Really?”

“Really,” Yuri sheepishly admitted, “I’ve never dated anyone ever,”.

Phichit grinned, jumping right into the nitty, gritty details of dating and flirting without hesitation. He pulled up pictures on his phone, giving Yuri the most credible and useful tips he had. Gesturing to pictures of Yuri and Viktor, Phichit pointed out even the tiniest details.

“When you did maybe your third performance of Eros, the time that it blew everyone away, that’s what Viktor likes. He likes to see confidence in you because you’re so quiet otherwise,”. Yuri’s eyes followed Phichit’s words, trying to memorize everything he could about what Viktor liked. They kept up their conversation as they left the building. Following Yakov, Yuri came around to the conclusion that he was totally and utterly oblivious.

“I didn’t even know that he liked me, Phichit. I thought he thought I was awful,”.

“He was all over you, Yuri! I know your eyesight is bad, but good lord. Not seeing that is like not seeing a freight train coming at you,” Phichit sighed, following the crowd down the sidewalk.

“I know but I didn’t know if that was just like a Russian thing or a Viktor thing. But then I met Yurio and Yakov,”.

“And you realized that it definitely wasn’t a Russian thing,”.

“Georgi too. But then I didn’t know if it was genuine or not. Y’know? Like I wasn’t sure if it was like when a real estate agent is super nice and friendly, but it’s just so you buy the house,”.

Phichit nodded, “I know what you mean, but that was just being straight oblivious,”.

Yakov entered a nearby restaurant, Viktor holding the door as the group filed in. Yuri was last in line, having fallen behind as he was distracted by his conversation. He walked through the door, thanking Viktor. Viktor slipped in before the door closed, reaching for Yuri’s hand. He interlocked their fingers together, leaning in close.

“I don’t wanna sit with the coaches, Yuri,” Viktor whined, as the team was lead through the tiny restaurant. They all sat at a long table, Viktor insisting Yuri sit beside him. After a bit of futile bickering, Yakov rolled his eyes and moved down a seat. Yuri was sandwiched in between Viktor and Leo, their broad shoulders brushing against one another in the crowded space. Viktor flipped through the menu, explaining dishes to Yuri. Yuri halfway listened as his gaze wandered around the room. The walls were covered in ornate tapestries, no doubt older than he was. Viktor nudged him with his shoulder, shaking Yuri out of his trance.

“Did you hear what I said?”

Yuri turned to face him, “What?”

Viktor chuckled, pointing at the menu, “Do you want me to order for you?”

“Oh, yes please. That would be wonderful,”.

A waiter came by to take their order, working around the table. Yakov ordered the table a round of drinks, accommodating to the the disparity of ages. Yuri had opted to be the metaphorical “designated driver” for the night, knowing full well he didn’t want to be interviewed with a hangover tomorrow. Viktor ordered for them, asking for something that Yuri couldn’t pronounce and, what Yuri recognized, beer.

“Don’t worry, dorogaya, I picked out something that you’ll like,” Viktor smiled, taking his hand under the table. 

Yurio leaned back in his chair, crunching on an ice cube, “Why are you two dating all of a sudden?”.

Yuri was flustered by the accusatory question. Rendered speechless by Yurio’s death glare, Viktor spoke up.

“It was just the right thing to do. You’ll know when you experience true love,” Viktor sweetly smiled, pressing a kiss to the back of Yuri’s hand. Phichit and Guang-Hong swooned at the cute act whilst Yurio and Georgi cringed. 

“Disgusting,” Yurio looked away, eating another ice cube from his water glass.

The conversation quickly changed to talk of a group number with all of the skaters. The coaches had all sat near one another, allowing the conversation to stay between them. Viktor had leaned in close for the discussion, his hand still anchored by Yuri.

“What if it were more of a showcase of talents and comradery than a cohesive piece? I think the fans will like it more if it looks like they’re all friends,” piped up Leo’s coach from the end of the table.

“And if they’re already doing individual programs, it’ll be nice to end the show with a fun piece,” Yakov nodded his head in agreement.

“If we’re gonna make it fun and light hearted, why don’t we skate with them too? That would be a good twist,” JJ’s coach suggested.

“That sounds like a great idea as long as I’m not expected to do a quadruple Salchow,” Yakov laughed.

“Oh no,” replied Leo’s coach, “That’s gonna be on Viktor,”.

“Iisus Christos,” Viktor threw his head back, laughing, “Fine, I’ll do it. I wouldn’t want any of you to break your hip,”. Before Yakov could call Viktor any obscene names, their food arrived. They all ate with gusto, hungry from the hard work of rehearsal. Viktor reveled in the warm that took over his body. The feeling of home sinking back into his bones. This was everything he had ever wanted to do with Yuri. Sharing his home with Yuri and welcoming him into his life, just as Yuri had done for him. 

“What do you think, my sweet katsudon?” Viktor asked, gently wiping a crumb from the corner of Yuri’s mouth.

Yuri blushed, setting down his fork, “This is all so delicious, thank you,”.

“Of course. I just wanted to share my home with you, I hope you like it,”.

“I love it, but I love anything I do with you,” Yuri softly smiled. A breadstick hit Viktor in the middle of his forehead before he could even say a word. 

“Get a room you two. Not everyone needs your stupid couple antics shoved down their throat,” Yurio scowled, picking at his food.

“Yurio- be nice,” Leo scolded.

“Yeah, it’s not Viktor’s fault that you can’t get a date because you’re so frigid,” Georgi scoffed.

“Say that again, you piece of shit! I dare you,” Yurio slammed down his fork. Leo gripped his shoulder tightly, pulling him back into his seat.

“Yurio, don’t you dare,” he said through clenched teeth. Yurio immediately backed down, shocked by the intensity that Leo could exude. The rest of dinner was fairly tense due to Yurio’s generally abysmal attitude. ‘He’s always been such a sore loser,’ Viktor thought to himself, finishing his beer. He finished his meal, leaning back, mourning the loss of Yuri’s hand. He had taken it away at some point to finish his meal without making a mess. 

He set his glass down, leaning back in his chair. He began to feel the effects of all of the previous beers as Yuri went from adorable to godlike. He seemed to glow under the light from the tea candles. Viktor rest his elbows on the table, chin in his hands. He marvelled at Yuri’s beauty through half lidded eyes. He was just so kissable, if only he weren’t out with the whole team… He was snapped out of his trance when Yakov stood up, chair scraping against the tile.

“Everyone, I thank you all for coming out with me tonight. I look forward to our joint programs. Now, I ask you with the utmost respect, go home and rest up. Tomorrow is the press conference. It will be held in the banquet room of the Metropol Hotel at 9 am. I expect you all to be there early and looking your best,” he dismissed the group, thanking the wait staff.

Yuri stood outside the shop, looking at the street signs and comparing them to his notes. He motioned for Viktor to follow him, making his way down the snowy walk. Viktor trailed behind him, admiring the way his leggings clung to his muscled legs. 

Yuri turned around with a worried look on his face, “Are you feeling alright? You look flushed,”.

“I have never, in my life, felt any better,” Viktor grinned, wrapping his arm around Yuri’s waist. He pressed a small kiss to the gap between Yuri’s scarf and his jaw. As they walked, Viktor tried pulling Yuri closer. Practically hanging on him by the time that they made it to the subway.

“Viktor, we’re in public. People are staring,” Yuri mumbled, his bright red face in contrast to his dark hair.

“Yuri, there’s no one here. It’s far too late for anyone sensible to be out,” Viktor quietly replied, gently nipping at his neck. Yuri quieted, pulling away. He gave Viktor a stern look, crossing his arms.

“Can you wait until we get home at least?”

Viktor smirked, he had won, “I’ll do my best, sweet Yuri,”.

He refrained from kissing Yuri as the car rattled down the tracks. He refrained from kissing Yuri on the walk to the hotel. He even refrained from kissing Yuri in the elevator up to their room. However, he did not refrain from kissing Yuri the instant their hotel door clicked shut. He pushed Yuri against the door, kissing all along his jaw as he made quick work of peeling off his wool scarf and winter jacket. Yuri gasped as Viktor ghosted his teeth down his neck. 

He pulled away, looking at Viktor, “No hickies above collarbones, okay? That goes for both of us”.

Viktor sighed, vaguely disappointed, “Okay,”.

Yuri tipped Viktor’s chin up, pressing their lips together. His disappointment quickly forgotten along with their bags at the front door. Viktor was needy, trying to take in as much of Yuri as he could. His hands rest on Yuri’s hips, fingers slipping under the hem to press into his skin. Every place he touched felt like fire, their hearts threatening to beat out of their chests. Yuri unbuttoned Viktor’s shirt, pressing his hands flat to his toned chest. They stumbled backwards until they hit the bed, Yuri sitting down on the edge. They tugged off their shirts, tossing them aside. Viktor escorted Makkachin out of the room, quietly speaking to him.

“I’m sorry, Makkachin. I promise not to be too loud,”.

Viktor returned to the bed, joining Yuri. He went to kiss Yuri, but there was little movement in return. A laugh threatened to burst from Viktor’s lips as he realized that Yuri had fallen asleep. He was a little disappointed in the sudden change of pace, but the sight of Yuri sleeping so soundly was still pretty good. He changed out of his clothes, pulling covers over the both of them. Yuri instinctively found his way over to Viktor, wrapping his arms around his waist. Viktor gently took off his glasses, reaching over to put them on the night stand.

“I’m going to need a rain check for all of this,” Viktor sighed.

“So’m I,” Yuri slurred his words, turning over. Viktor pulled him close, his chest flush with Yuri’s back. He kissed the back of Yuri’s neck, his breathing falling in time with Yuri’s as they drifted off to sleep.


	9. First Words (And First Time)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Viktor attend a press conference regarding their Christmas tour, but let's be real, that's not the focus of their day.

Viktor was jarred awake by the sound of a beeping alarm. He sat up in bed, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Makkachin was curled up at his feet, but Yuri was nowhere to be found. Viktor flopped over onto Makkachin, burying his face into his fur. 

“I love you!” he said, rubbing his belly. He was met with slobbery puppy kisses. He laughed, trying to lean away from the sticky affection. Makkachin softly whined, putting his paw onto Viktor’s leg.

“Makkachin, you gotta chill. We have the press conference and I can’t be covered in dog hickeys,”.

“I guess it’s a little late for me then,” Yuri smiled. He walked into the room, nothing but a robe loosely tied around his waist. Viktor whistled, raising a single eyebrow.

“You have to warn me if you’re gonna look that good so early in the morning,” Viktor grinned. His eyes traced over Yuri’s figure, admiring his toned muscles. He was never one to bulk up when he worked out, much like Viktor. Yuri sighed, pulling the collar of his robe away from his neck. The fabric gave way to reveal a trail of purple bruises that wrapped from his neck down to his chest.

“And what exactly am I supposed to do about this, Mr. Nikiforov?”. 

A chill ran down Viktor’s spine at the formal name. 

“Well, I certainly have a few ideas,” Viktor walked over to Yuri, grabbing him by the lapels of his robe. He kissed him, damp hair pressed to both of their foreheads. Yuri pulled away, holding Viktor at arms length.

“Oh no no no- I don’t need any more hickeys. I’ll be lucky if my turtleneck even covers this,”.

Viktor grinned, resting his hands over Yuri’s, “But how else will everyone know that you’re mine?”

Yuri feigned a moment of deep thought, “Mmm, you’ll just have to hold my hand and never leave my side,” he turned away, fetching his clothes from a drawer. He held up various shirts to pants, trying to pair the two. Viktor followed behind him, hugging him around the waist.

“Go with the grey turtleneck and black JSF blazer, black dress pants too. It’ll be a nice clean look,”.

“Thank you, dorogaya,” Yuri turned his head to kiss Viktor on the nose. He left to go to the bathroom to change and finish drying his hair. Viktor was left to sort through his own clothes, choosing a crisp white button down and a maroon jacket. He tugged on an undershirt, pulling on his pants. He buttoned his shirt up, stopping a few down from the collar. He tucked his shirt into his pants. He slipped his phone and lip balm into his pocket before picking out his shoes. Makkachin kept nudging his hands away as he tried to tie his shoes.

“What do you want, Makka?”

Makkachin trotted over to his suitcase, trying to paw it open. 

Viktor laughed, “Only good dogs get treats, silly pup,”.

Makkachin whined, giving him a pathetic look. That was all it took to break Viktor’s resolve. He opened a plastic package, pulling out a small biscuit in the shape of a bone. 

“Sidet,” Viktor commanded. Makkachin sat down and held out a paw, trying to shake hands and illicit another treat. Viktor smiled, balancing the treat on the end of Makkachin’s nose. Cross eyed, Makkachin began to drool.

“Khoroshiy mal'chik!” Makkachin snatched the treat from the air and Viktor stood up. He slipped on his jacket, knocking on the bathroom door.

“Are you ready to go-” His question was cut short as the door opened. Yuri held his pajamas in one hand, glasses in the other. Viktor was speechless, staring at Yuri with his mouth agape. His hair was pushed back, much like it looked during his performances. He had chosen to wear contacts for the interview (only after Viktor constantly complained about the glare on his glasses in all of the pictures). He set his pajamas on a chair, his glasses on the adjoining side table.

“Yuri…” Viktor softly spoke, trying to speak before his words were ready, “Ya gorzhus' vami. Y vyglyadish' tak privlekatel'no,”.

Yuri blushed furiously, looking away. Viktor gently pressed a kiss to Yuri’s cheek, taking his hand.

“We should head out. Yurio texted me that breakfast will be available at the conference,”

“But you look good enough to eat,” Viktor teased, gently biting at Yuri’s ear.

Yuri laughed, leaning away, “Later, I promise,”.

Viktor huffed dramatically, walking out with Yuri, “Fiiiiiine,”.

They sat side by side in the town car, breath stolen by the cold. The ride downtown was brief, however, their arrival took a bit longer. Paparazzi crowding the sliding glass doors. They donned their sunglasses before the door was even opened, shielding their eyes from the bright flashbulbs. Viktor smiled for the cameras, stopping Yuri. He insisted on signing autographs, despite the assistants urging them along. He waved good bye to the fans as he and Yuri were forcefully escorted inside. They barely got a chance to unzip their parkas before they were taken from their shoulders. The lobby was bustling with camera crews and interviewers. Viktor and Yuri were taken to a secluded room and sat in chairs. They began to get a hold of their surroundings as makeup artists covered the flaws in their faces. Viktor reached for Yuri’s hand as they sat. All powdered up, Viktor and Yuri were promptly sent into the ballroom where they lined up behind tall panels. The audience was getting restless, as were the skaters. Yuri began to feel the nerves cause his chest to tighten as they waited. Viktor sensed this and pulled him aside.

“Are you feeling okay?” Viktor asked, holding a hand to Yuri’s forehead.

Yuri shook his head, “The last time that I was at a conference this big, it was after the Grand Prix that I totally lost. I don’t want to go up there, Viktor. I can’t do it again,”.

“Oh dorogaya,” Viktor murmured, “I understand how you’re feeling, but this time you have me here. I’ll be by your side the whole time. All you need to do is reach over if you get scared,”. 

Yuri nodded. An attendant lead them back to the group and lined them up in order. The rest of the conference went off without a hitch. The initial focus was on Viktor and Yuri, many Russian fans still confused as to what pulled him to a tiny Japanese town. Thankfully, however, it soon shifted to Yurio’s big debut and what it meant for his senior career. Yurio was seething as he explained that Yuri stole his coach from him- that he had stolen his big senior debut. 

“I was supposed to have the world’s best senior debut and Viktor up and left me for what, some Japanese pig?” Yurio scoffed, rolling his eyes. Yakov leaned over in his chair, scolding Yurio for his harsh and inappropriate words.

Dread grew in the pit of Yuri’s stomach as he tried to explain as best he could, “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I just wanted to skate,”. His voice wavered and his hands shook, there was no way that he could explain any of this in Russian. Viktor rest his hand on Yuri’s thigh, giving it a slight squeeze.

“This is true,” Viktor added on, trying to soothe the tension, “I made my own decision to go to Japan. It was no one’s intention to harm anyone or their careers. I went to Hasetsu because I fell in love with the passion in his skating and the determination in his eyes,”. 

He was solely focused on the cameras. He was explaining to the reporters more than he was to Yurio, “I hope you all respect my decision to stay with Yuri and to support him as a coach. I love him with all of my heart and want to coach him as long as I can. I now understand that this is where I belong. Not on the ice alone, but on the ice with Yuri,”.

The tension had melted away as he spoke. His words tugged on the heartstrings of romantics everywhere, urging them to believe everything he said. Yuri stared at him with wide eyes. Everything Viktor said about loving him, he began to believe it. It was one thing to say ‘I love you’ to one person, but to announce ‘I love him’ to all the skaters; that was all it took for Yuri to finally understand. He took Viktor’s hand from his thigh in his own, lacing their fingers together. His words had quickly ended the conversation and the questions rolled on. Yakov announced their new practice program, choosing to keep the skater-and-coach piece a secret. An hour or so ticked by before they were graciously dismissed. Standing to the side of the breakfast buffet, Yuri was still stiff from Yurio’s comments. This much was evident from the thousand yard stare that had taken over his gaze. Viktor rest a hand on his shoulder, shocking him out of his trance.

“I’m sorry for what Yurio said,” he sighed, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. Yuri leaned up on his tiptoes, meeting his lips with Viktors before he had the chance to change course.

“It’s not your fault. Besides, I got you in the end,”.

Viktor grinned, “You did,”.

“And I suppose I get you now too,” Yuri took Viktor by his coat sleeve, leading him away to the bathrooms they had passed on their way in. Yuri pushed the door open, quickly scanning the vicinity. The coast was clear. He tugged Viktor down by his lapels so he could properly kiss him. Viktor wrapped his arm around Yuri’s waist pulling him deeper into the kiss. Their hips ground together, eliciting a gasp from Viktor. Yuri walked backwards until he was pinned against a stall door, Viktor hungrily kissing his lips. He tugged down the neck of Yuri’s sweater, running his lips across his collar bones. They moved into a stall, Viktor fumbling to lock the door behind them. Yuri’s hands wandered, deftly undoing Viktor’s belt and zipper. Before he could get any further, Viktor pulled away. Out of breath and very flushed, Viktor looked Yuri in the eyes.

“Do you want to do this?”.

“Of course,” Yuri replied, lust clouding his eyes. He leaned in to pick up where he left off but Viktor kept his distance.

“You promise? I, of course, consent. But you’re sure that you consent to doing all of this,” he gestured at the space between them, “with me?”.

“Of course I consent. Viktor, I want you. I have for too long-” his words were cut off by the lips that were once again pressed against his. Yuri tugged the hem of Viktor’s shirt up, running his rough fingers across his toned stomach. Viktor shuddered as Yuri’s hand dipped below the waistband of his briefs, palming his painfully hard cock. Groaning into the sudden sensation, Viktor buried his face in Yuri’s neck. He was sweating like a sinner in church, embarrassed at how vulnerable he was. If Yuri kept going at this pace, he would be finished in no time. However, he didn’t think that Yuri would terribly mind. He returned the favor, slipping his hand into Yuri’s boxers. Their groans were lost in fabric as they buried their faces in the others shoulder, trying to muffle the sounds. Yuri hit a sweet spot on Viktor, causing his hips to stutter forward. He cried out into the wool of Yuri’s sweater, slightly biting down in pleasure. His hand pumped faster along Yuri’s cock, using slick precum as lubricant. Yuri slowed down his pace to an agonizing crawl. His thumb slid over Viktor’s slit, causing him to his.

“Let’s finish together,” Yuri spoke quietly. 

Viktor nodded vigorously and their paces sped up. Soon they were synced up, sloppy kisses matching the intensity of their motions. Viktor came with a choked moan, spilling over Yuri’s fist. It only took a second pump before Yuri came as well. Bliss washed over their sweat dampened hair and sticky hands. A grin spread across Viktor’s face as his mind began to clear. He got some paper towel, carefully wiping off his hands and underwear. Once his pants were zipped up, he turned to Yuri, taking his hands in his. He carefully cleaned his hands, all the while his smile stayed.

“Hey, Viktor?” Yuri tossed away the toilet paper, zipping up his pants.

“Yeah?” Viktor replied, tucking in his shirt.

“I love you,” Yuri murmured, helping him tuck the fabric in in the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorogaya- Darling.  
> Sidet- Sit.  
> Khoroshiy mal'chik- Good boy.  
> Ya gorzhus' vami- I am proud of you.  
> Ty vyglyadish' privlekatel'no- You look handsome.
> 
> AAAA! Writing smut is so weird, so please let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy the update!


	10. Costume Fittings Are Pretty Intimate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor visits his old seamstress for Yuri's final fitting before the showcase. Also Yurio is still moody, big surprise.

After their “rendezvous” in the bathroom, the rest of their day was booked with practices. As were all of their subsequent days. Viktor noticed that they always seemed to be slightly sweaty, despite the biting cold. Whether it was working out or making out, they always seemed to be busy and working hard. The preparations leading up to the show began to intensify. Hours at the rink got longer, and costume fittings seemed to be endless. Yuri stood on a milk crate, arms out to his side as a small ‘babushka’ puttered around him. She poked at his side, shaky hands pinning the fabrics together. She babbled to Viktor with familiarity. Yuri was only able to pick out a select few words since she spoke so quickly. He recognized home, skating, and love. ‘She must be talking about how glad she is to have Viktor home,’ Yuri decided as she hemmed a pant leg. His gaze focused on the intricate floral design on the wallpaper, losing what little focus he had on the conversation at hand. In reality, however, Viktor was not even remotely discussing himself. He spoke quickly, once again thankful for Yuri’s linguistic ineptitude.

“I’m so in love, Annushka, what do I do?”

She clicked her tongue, “Does he know?”

“Of course he knows, I’ve done everything short of marry him!” Viktor sighed in exasperation.

“Then marry him,” she shrugged.

“What?! Are you crazy? Has your old age finally caught up with your brain?”

She gave him an annoyed look, holding an accusatory finger at him, “Do not call me old. Besides, it doesn’t sound like you’ll be breaking up any time soon,”.

“So you’re saying I should make it permanent,”.

“I’m saying that you better do something before you mess this one up,”.

“You’re saying I should propose,”.

“What you chose to do with that information is none of my business,” she shrugged, tugging on the hem to even it out.

Viktor leaned back in his chair, bouncing his leg. He pulled together a hypothetical scenario in which he proposed. He “hypothetically” would wait until after the shows and when they went back to Hasetsu. He would then “hypothetically” ask Yuri to watch the fireworks outside of Castle Hasetsu on New Year’s Eve. Once they were there, he would “hypothetically” ask Yuri to marry him with the rings he “hypothetically” bought after Yuri’s first show with him as his coach. Viktor sighed, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Thank god that this was all about a “hypothetical” situation. 

Annushka zipped up the back of Yuri’s costume, adjusting the cords that hung over his shoulder. The costume was inspired by the one that Viktor wore during his last performance. Though the color scheme changed and many alterations were made, the gold epaulets and cords were almost exact replicas. Yuri turned in a circle, admiring the handiwork in the mirror. Viktor whistled, a grin plastered on his face. Yuri thanked Annushka profusely. His praises were cut short when the bell rang at the front of the store. Glancing at the reflection in the mirror, Yuri watched Yakov and Yurio stomp snow off of their boots in the doorway. Suddenly, both Yuri and Viktor were acutely aware of a) how tight Yuri’s costume was, and b) how hot the room was. Annushka had greeted them at the door, explaining the alterations she had made. Yakov sat beside Viktor as another box was placed beside Yuri. Yurio changed into his costume and stood on his respective crate. Viktor clapped his hands together in excitement, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“You two look so cute!” he beamed, taking a picture of them.

“Shut up, old man,” Yurio scowled.

Viktor stood between them, wrapping his arms around both of their shoulders. With the help of the boxes, they finally stood as tall as Viktor. He took selfies with them, insisting on using the absurd filters. He stuck out his tongue, a vibrant rainbow appearing from his mouth. In the background of the picture, Yuri was doubled over laughing, meanwhile Yurio had a mortified look on his face. Annushka batted him away, sending him back to his seat. Viktor smiled at the picture. He quietly saved it to his camera roll before tucking his phone away. 

“How is Yuri feeling about his program?” Yakov asked, watching Annushka work.

“Good, I think. He looks comfortable enough with the work so confidence will be easy to work on this week,”.

Yakov nodded, “Something seems to be holding Yurio back, but I don’t know what it is,”. 

“What do you mean?”.

“I mean he isn’t angry. He doesn’t do things out of spite anymore. It’s like he’s constantly distracted. Almost like he’s homesick or something,” Yakov leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Does he miss someone?” Viktor asked.

Yakov furrowed his brow in thought, “I don’t know but it does seem like he misses someone,”.

Viktor tried to send his memory back to the last competition. Who had Yurio spent time with or mentioned most? He racked his mind.

“Otabek Altin!” he finally announced. He remembers Yurio hanging out with the Kazakhstani skater at the last Grand Prix. Both were very solitary people that only seemed to enjoy the company of one another. They would often sneak off to get away from the persistent fans and reporters. Viktor, of course, had teased Yurio at the time, but Otabek was his one friend in the competition. Yakov slapped a hand to his forehead in exasperation. 

“Of course! How could I forget about him! They would always disappear as soon as they weren’t needed,” Yakov sighed. 

“I wonder if something happened between them that made Yurio upset,”. 

“Probably. Thank you, Viktor. I’m going to have to talk to him about this. It is absurd to be so emotionally invested in one person,”.

Viktor laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, “You’re telling me,”.

Yuri tugged off his costume and began to redress. Viktor took the costume from him, hanging it up in a garment bag. Yuri tugged on his sweater and scarf, following Viktor up to the front desk. Viktor handed over his card to Annushka. He playfully bumped Yuri with his hip, a sly grin on his face.

“You looked really good in that costume. I can’t wait to see you on the ice tomorrow night,”.

Yuri blushed looking down at his shoes, “I’m really nervous. I hope everything goes okay,”.

“Don’t worry, everything will be great. I should be the worried one, I haven’t performed in a while,”.

Yuri smiled, “This will be the first time we’re on ice together since the last Grand Prix you won,”.

Viktor gasped, “Oh my god! You’re right! This is way more special than I thought! We’ve got to look perfect”.

“You already do,” Yuri nonchalantly replied. He took the bag from the counter, hanging it over his forearm. He lead Viktor outside, his coach in an embarrassed trance. Had Yuri just called him perfect? Did Yuri really think that he was handsome? Viktor’s hand instinctively found Yuri’s lacing their fingers together. 

“Yuri?” Viktor asked, nervously chewing at the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah?”.

“Do you really think that I’m perfect?”.

“Of course I do, you are perfect in every single way. Plus, you even love me back, or at least you say you do,”.

A smile spread across Viktor’s cheeks. He wrapped Yuri in an awkward hug, trying to coordinate their steps so that they didn’t fall over.

“You are the best student, boyfriend, and katsudon ever,” Viktor murmured. Yuri blushed brilliantly under the kind words. Before they knew it, they had made it home. Their hotel room door unlocked with a click. Makkachin bounded over, ecstatic over his owner’s return. They all curled up on the couch, unsure what to do with the remainder of the afternoon. 

“I should probably work out,” Yuri sighed, absentmindedly petting Makkachin, “but it can’t be so much that I’m sore tomorrow though,”.

Viktor carded through Yuri’s hair, “Why don’t we go down and do some stretching? It’ll keep you warm and be easy enough on your body,”.

Yuri pressed against Viktor’s hand, closing his eyes with content, “Mhmm,”.

They noncommittally agreed, neither one of them making the first move to get up. Instead, they pulled a blanket over their shoulders and began to drift off to sleep. Viktor took off Yuri’s glasses, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The afternoon sun bathed the room in a golden glow. The warmth lulled them into a peaceful sleep. Their hands warmed one another; Makkachin warmed their feet. Thoughts of tomorrow’s showcase dotted their dreams, excitement beginning to truly set in.


	11. Let's End This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final installation of my fic is complete! Viktor and Yuri have their last performance in Moscow and it's a hit!

The locker room was a bustle as all the skaters prepared for the final act of the show. The overwhelming stench of hairspray had long ago replaced any other smell that had previously occupied the place. Yuri’s performance had moved everyone to tears, even Yurio and Yakov who were previously believed to be emotionless androids. Viktor pulled on his costume, smiling at the familiar feeling. The turnout for the show was insane. Bleachers were packed with adoring fans and supportive families. The whole rink had seemed to shake when any skater took to the ice. Cheers echoed down the hall, filling the bustling room with even more noise. Yuri appeared in the doorway, out of breath. His program had just ended, meaning it was time to go. Viktor handed Yuri a bottle of water before triple checking his skates. He leaned over his legs, getting in one last stretch. He helped Yuri into his second costume, quickly re-lacing Yuri’s skates while Phichit helped with the zipper. It was the fast change of the century, but they were all out in under three minutes. Viktor slipped his hand into Yuri’s as they walked to the rink. They piled their blade covers outside the rink before stepping onto the ice. The crowd went wild as soon as they even caught a glimpse of all the skaters, cheers and chants shaking the walls. They stepped on the ice and all the fans erupted into cheers. Gliding across the ice, they introduced one another and thanked all the fans for their support. 

One high-energy program later, the ice was littered with bouquets and stuffed animals. Each skater picked up all that they could carry, arms full with the trinkets. Viktor leaned over Yuriś full arms, pressing a soft kiss to his sweaty cheek. 

“We should skate together more,”.

Yuri grinned, nodding in agreement. Skating together was different from skating alone. Aside from the obvious fact that you are no longer alone, it was a totally different energy altogether. To make a connection with another person was incredibly intimate, especially in Viktor and Yuri’s case. They had devoted every fiber of their being to skating. Making sacrifices and compromises for years. This made their relationship with skating very personal, and to share that relationship with someone else… It was electrifying. 

Viktor dumped his spoils on the floor, adding to the growing pile. He unzipped his costume. He peeled it from his shoulders like a second skin, letting it hang from his waist. He fanned himself with his hands, still breathless. Yuri sat on a bench, working at the knots that kept his skates on his feet. Viktor sat beside him, copying the motion. He nudged Yuri with his elbow. Yuri looked up at him, squinting his eyes. ‘I really need to get him contacts,’ he thought to himself, shooting Yuri a smiled. Yuri blushed, turning back to his skates. Viktor tugged his skates off, clipping the blade guards back on. He watched as Yuri slowly pulled off his costume, struggling with the tight spandex. He paused, the spandex halfway down his thighs. He wiped his sweaty hands on the fabric before returning to their removal. Viktor followed in suit. Cool air rushed over his skin, goosebumps painting his arms. He quickly tugged on what he thought was his recognizable track suit. ‘Huh,’ he thought to himself, ‘I don’t remember my pants being this short,’. Yuri finally freed himself from his fabric trap, the physical exertion of it alone rivalling his solo on ice. Viktor laughed at the look of relief on Yuri’s face. He pulled on his sweatpants and a t shirt, letting his torso air out. 

“Maybe we don’t make it so tight next time,” Yuri huffed.

“I think we should make it tighter,” Viktor smirked.

Yurio made a gagging noise from across the room, “I think you two should go back to Japan. See if there’s an earlier flight so I don’t have to deal with you anymore,”

Viktor pouted, hugging Yurio, “Oh dorogaya, I’ll miss you too…” 

Yuri cuffed the his pant legs, ‘Were they always this long?’, he shrugged. He blindly rummaged through his locker for his glasses case. His fingers found the smooth leather, snapping it open immediately. He put on his glasses and relaxed as everything came back into focus. He scanned the room with his newly cleared vision. JJ and Georgi were fighting over who’s girlfriend was cuter; Phichit was taking selfies with Celestino and Guang-Hong; and Viktor was smothering Yurio in a hug… In his track suit? He looked down at his own outfit and started laughing. Amidst all the blurred colors, he had mistakenly taken Viktor’s tracksuit and vice versa. He slipped his hands into the pockets, trying to warm his frozen fingers. They brushed up against a small box. Curious, Yuri pulled it out and opened it. 

“Viktor…” Yuri softly called out, marvelling at the sight before him. Two gold rings sat on plush burgundy velvet. Viktor turned around, eyes growing wide. He began to process the sight before him, the panic setting in. He calmly set down Yurio and made his way over to Yuri. His quiet presence was a nice lie since he was internally screaming. 

“I guess you found out a little bit earlier than I hoped...” Viktor trailed off. He took out one ring, slipping it onto Yuri’s left ring finger.

Yuri stood on his tiptoes, pressing a kiss to Viktor’s flushed cheek, “Ya vyydu za tebya zamuzh,”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya vyydu za tebya zamuzh- I will marry you.
> 
> RIP me. I hope you all enjoyed reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! It's low key my child now,,, Hit me up any time for requests! I'm always bored and willing to write :-)

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought about this in the comments! Feel free to leave suggestions and criticisms. I hope you all like it!


End file.
